


Rest Stop

by 0000000 (iKain2)



Series: Doomhardt: The Crackship Absolutely Nobody Asked For [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: All of these foreign words are probably incorrect sorry, Chapter 2 has a tiny bit of angst, Crack, I hope the 3 Doomfists are still alive or this is gonna make zero sense, M/M, Silly Old Men, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Written at 2 in the morning, completely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iKain2/pseuds/0000000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was Reinhardt doing in southwestern Greenland before the recall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> what is this monstrosity that I have created (poor grandpa doesn’t really get paired with anyone even though he's the cuddliest big old german rocket puppy, he needs more love so I gave him retired doomfist #1 lol)

**[ Paamiut, Greenland ]**

Adhabu Ngumi had long since reasoned to himself that forced retirement didn’t seem too bad after spending so many years of living a relatively simple and mostly stress-free life in a quiet neighborhood that seemed almost completely removed from the unending troubles of world. With the aftermath of the Omnic Crisis and the fall of Overwatch having taken place so long ago, the majority of the occupants (and the younger generations) in the tiny fishing city seemed to have little problem with the few hundred Omnics that worked at the harbors alongside their human counterparts; on the other hand, some days Adhabu could not even stand to be in the presence of an Omnic without feeling his hard-earned instincts screaming at him to punch a hole through their heads.

The old man slowly but surely shoveled away the last of the light snow that had accumulated onto his home’s tiny front yard. His large and calloused fingers cracked and popped with every minute twitch, but the old man paid it no mind as he let the shovel rest against the paint-chipped wooden porch railing. With a heavy sigh, he gingerly shuffled over and sat down on the cushioned chair by the door, the aged wood creaking underneath the weight of his bulk as he reached over to grab his thermos of still-steaming decaf that was sitting on the hand-carved patio table to his left. Despite being well into his mid-sixties and boasting a shiny bald head, Adhabu was more-or-less in good health save for the intermittent tremors in both of his hands.

A few of the local children sped past on their bicycles, kicking up clods of mud and snowmelt from the unpaved road as they whooped in childish glee. Adhabu waved to the littlest one trying her very hardest to keep up with the slightly older kids on her tricycle and smiled when the girl waved back with a grin that was missing a front tooth. When the children disappeared around the bend, Adhabu stretched his legs out, settled a bit more comfortably into his seat, and then picked up the ancient paperback of _Watership Down_ that was next to his thermos.

A few chapters into his reading had the old man looking up from his book as an old hovertruck slowly wheezed and rattled its way up the slight incline of the road before stopping right before the old gate that led up to the driveway of the house. Adhabu carefully set aside the paperback and hauled himself up from his seat as the hovertruck’s engine cut.

The driver-side door slammed open with a kick from a large booted foot.

“ _MEIN KUSCHELBӒR, ICH BIN DAHEIM!_ ”

Adhabu braced himself against the railing of the porch as his overenthusiastic husband of thirty years vaulted the fence and charged over within the span of a few quick seconds. There was a smile of relief on his face, however, when he ended up being swept into a bone-crushing bear hug that lifted him a good foot off the floor.

“Welcome home, _mahabubu_.” Adhabu felt himself being swung around in a few circles, accompanied by a gleeful laugh that he hadn’t heard in roughly four months, before finding himself back on his feet and suddenly having to brace his own weight against 300 lbs of pure muscle insistent on giving him a beard-burn on his face.

“Ach, my back… I require many kisses to feel better, _ja_?” Reinhardt’s lopsided grin was incredibly infectious as he pinned the other man against the door.

“Just kisses? Surely I can give you more than just kisses…” Adhabu grinned back, the other man’s shameless affection blindingly bright and warming him from the inside-out.

The door had other ideas as it promptly swung open thanks to the half-turned doorknob digging into Adhabu’s spine and the combined weight of two very heavy 7’4” old men, sending both of them gracelessly crashing down onto the wooden flooring of the house’s entryway.

* * *

Several hours later, Reinhardt found himself shirtless and standing in front of the electric stove with a sizzling pan full of currywurst sausages. Adhabu had plastered himself against his back, stubbled cheek resting against the crook of his neck, and was idly running his fingers through the thick smattering of gray curls on his chest that didn’t quite hide the numerous old scars and burns.

“ _Kuschelbär_ , can you get the plates? The currywurst is almost done.”

“Of course.” Adhabu pressed a kiss to the nape of Reinhardt’s neck before he pulled away. He procured two clean plates from the drying rack a few feet away, but then—

—the fingers on his right hand twitched and spasmed into an uncomfortable numbness, sending the plates crashing onto the floor and shattering into unrecoverable pieces.

“Ah, this again.” Adhabu stared at his convulsing hand as if it were a foreign object.

Reinhardt’s steady grip on his shoulders guided him away from the mess on the floor and pushed him down into a chair at the small dining table off to the side. With a single-minded determination, the man took Adhabu’s hand in his own and did his best to keep the seizing fingers from curling into the palm and digging nails into the flesh there.

A few unbearably long minutes later, Adhabu let out a weary sigh when his right hand finally stopped trying to acquire a mind of its own. “That one was not too bad, I think.”

“Hush. Let me…” Reinhardt dug his thumbs in circular motions over the sinewy tendons and rough skin of the other man’s palm, slowly massaging the tense muscles and arthritic joints.

“Reinhardt—”

“You have not been doing your exercises, _mein kuschelbär._ ” Reinhardt worked on each individual finger with careful precision, digging his thumbs into the areas he _knew_ ached dreadfully whenever the weather changed or cracked profusely with every other bend.

Adhabu gave Reinhardt a flat stare. “Reinhardt, the—”

“Your fingers are too stiff. See how little I can move them?”

“THE CURRYWURST IS BURNING, REINHARDT.”

“Ach… _scheiße_!”

* * *

It was sometime past midnight when a constant buzzing sound dragged Reinhardt into half-wakefulness. The old man groaned and rolled onto his left side, pressing his face into his pillow as an arm slid over his bare side in a loose hold and quiet snores of warm breath tickled at the skin just behind his ear.

The buzzing continued from somewhere on the floor and Reinhardt grumbled as he shifted over to half-dangle off the bed to blindly search for whatever that had woken him up. Eventually, he found it coming from the old Overwatch communicator that he’d always kept in the back pocket of his trousers.

Blearily squinting with his only good eye at the blindingly bright screen, Reinhardt pressed the annoyingly flashing orange button and let the thing drop back to the floor, finally silenced. He dragged himself back onto the bed properly just as the other man rolled over onto his other side.

“Was that Brigitte?”

“ _Nein_ , it is work… but I am not going anywhere else, so soon.”

With a low grumble Reinhardt shifted so that he had an arm and a leg wrapped around Adhabu, rested his forehead against the back of the other man’s head, and drifted back into a sleep he sorely needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o lawd i continued this h elp me

Breakfast was still a quiet affair for Adhabu even with the addition of an affectionately cuddle-happy German glued to his hip. Yawning widely, the old man picked up another slice of cheese and leftover sausage on toast with his left hand and took a bite.

His right hand was being given yet another thorough massage by Reinhardt, who was much too excited and energetic for a sixty-one-year-old man who had voluntarily decided to wake up at the crack of dawn.

“--and so Brigitte is in Nuuk so she may fully explore the national museum that she has told me many times that she wished to visit when she was a young girl. My plan was to stay here with you for at least a week before heading to Boklovo to assist with the rebuilding efforts. With the message I received last night, however, it seems that I will have to make way to Gibraltar instead.”

“Rebuilding? What happened in Boklovo?” Adhabu flicked some crumbs off his fingers and reached for his mug of just-brewed decaf.

“It was only a little while ago that Torbjörn sent me a message about a Titan Omnic that had been controlled by an old friend of ours that tried to destroy the city. The Kurjikstani government did not take too kindly to how poorly their military force fared against the machine, so I am not surprised that you did not hear about it.” Reinhardt finished off the massage by bringing the other man's hand to his face and pressing a gentle kiss onto scarred knuckles.

“Ah. Politics never seems to change no matter, does it? Who was the idiot that tried to pilot the dwarf's war-machine?” Adhabu resumed eating his breakfast, this time eating slightly faster now that he could use both of his hands.

“Sven, I believe. Remember him?”

“Ah, yes. That boy with that horrendous mustache and never stopped talking about the 'preservation of our species'?”

“The very same, though he is not quite a boy anymore with how Torbjörn described him to me.” Reinhardt reached over and stole a mouthful of coffee from the other man's mug.

A frown suddenly graced his lined face and Adhabu set his fork down. “Wait, you said you were planning to stay for a week? I have not seen you for months and you return to me only for a _**week**_?”

“...I will go and fetch you more coffee.” Reinhardt drained the mug of coffee despite the fact that it would have been scalding hot and shot out of his seat.

“...”

“Did you move the coffee canister? I do not remember it being in this cupboard.”

“Reinhardt!” At the sharp bark of his name, the man froze from where he was nervously fiddling with the coffee maker. Adhabu took one look at the guilty expression on the man's face before letting out a low sigh. “Come here, _mahabubu_.”

Reinhardt shuffled back over to sit down in his chair. Adhabu wrapped his arms around his foolish giant of a husband and briefly pressed his lips onto the space just above the man's scarred eyelid.

“I am not angry with you. I know how much you need to be out there, helping those who cannot help themselves and protecting the innocent from injustice.”

Reinhardt shifted so he could bury his face into the crook of the other man's neck.“I am sorry. I... did not meant to leave you alone for so long, _mein schatz_. There is just so much to be done and...”

“I just can't help but worry for my _mahabubu_. Just… promise me that you will take better care of yourself? I have found one too many new scars on your back, and you are not as young as you used to be.” Adhabu murmured into the uncombed mess of soft white hair as he let his cheek rest against the top of Reinhardt's head.

“ _Ich verstehe_.”

“Good. Now… I recall you saying that you were going to fetch me some more coffee?”

“...I do not wish to move, _mein k_ _uschelbär._ ”

“Ah. Alright then.”


End file.
